Surprise Proposal
by elloteenah
Summary: Carla proposes to Nick in the Bistro. It's their little secret for the night.


**This is kind of a follow on from Spoilsport but also it's own one-shot. I am so 50/50 about this engagment but the photos are so cute and it sounds adorable, it's just will it last or happen with Ali leaving? I don't want to think about it. This is just what I think could happen on Wednesday (2nd December) with also a few classic Narla quotes/scenes thrown it.**

* * *

"Nick, put me down!" Carla squealed, smacking his back and she tried to get out of his grip.

"One second," he laughed, trying to open the door to her flat with one hand.

"Nick wasn't expecting Carla's admission after her failed attempt at witnessing for a day. It wasn't like it was her day job, just a one-off for Nick because he was short-staffed at the bistro. She didn't enjoy being bossed about, taking orders—especially from Sally Webster!—that was her job as owner of the factory. He quite enjoyed watching her keep her patience, not scream in Sally's face like she desperately wanted to. The nice-girl image wasn't for Carla, she had clearly forgotten any customer services skills she learnt from the shoe shop she worked in as a teenager.

When her "shift" was over, and the bistro closed for the day, she helped herself to a glass of red behind the bar.

 _"Uh, excuse me," Nick chuckled, removing the glass from her hand and tracing it out of her reach. " You think you've earned that, do you?"_

 _"Yes," she scoffed, leaning into him. She reached out behind him to get her drink back. He pulled her arm away._

 _"I don't think so," he said. "You're fired, Carla."_

 _"Oh."_

 _"You hated every moment, you showed zero enthusiasm," Nick pointed out, enjoying being the boss of her. "I run highly-established restaurant, Ms Connor, I need reliable staff. I'm sorry."_

 _Carla slapped his chest. "Very funny. I don't want to work with you anyway. I've mixed business with pleasure before, it doesn't end well."_

 _Nick hummed before kissing his girlfriend._

 _Three months of pure joy. Sure, they had their rocky patches along the way but they were here, in this moment, enjoying each other's company and those struggles didn't matter anymore, they were dealt with. They were in the past. They were past it and focusing on the future._

 _With everything that had happened, Carla never imagined she would have ended up with Nick. In her mind, he should still be with Erica, supporting her, supporting her through her pregnancy if her baby hadn't opted out like her own. But Erica know it wouldn't last. She watched Nick from the background enjoy Carla's company more than he enjoyed hers when she came back, hoping to work something out. It was a fling, that's all it would ever be and all three parties involved agreed. Carla didn't want to feel guilty Nick had chosen her._

 _"Would you like to make one final order?" he mused._

 _Carla nodded._

 _"I would like that drink back, please," she pointed over his shoulder, "and," she picked up her waitress pad and pen from the bar top and wrote down what she wanted close to her chest so only she could see. She turned it round when she was done so Nick could read her request. She put the back of the pad against her nose, looking at him with a mix of love and fear in her eyes._

 _ **Marry Me?**_

 _He narrowed his eyes, reading her words._

 _"Really?" he said, breathless._

 _"Yes, I love you—"_

 _"NIck!" Michelle came running in, surprising Nick and Carla. She swallowed, trying to catch her breath._

 _"What is it?" Nick asked, he moved away from Carla, leaning over the bar to listen to Michelle._

 _"It's Sarah, she's been ran over."_

Marriage was the last thing on his mind, honestly. He loved Carla, of course, and he saw a long future with her. It was surprised about how soon it was—but he said yes! So he knew he wanted to. He didn't say it to make Carla happy, he knew she worth more than that. And now the idea of marriage excited him.

So much, he took it upon himself to play husband, already, and carry Carla, bridal style, towards the threshold. Although, he waited until they made it to her floor, it was their little secret after all, and he didn't want any resident getting an idea and spreading the news like tabooed gossip, especially to Norris.

The problem was the door. He couldn't hold her in his arms and get his keys from his pocket at the same time, so he put her over his shoulder, into a fireman's carry, and used his spare arm to get them into the flat.

"Now put me down, Tilsley!"

He kicked the door closed behind him and removed her from his hold.

"I'll be able to call you that soon," he smiled, moving to pull her into his arms again but this time as a hug.

"Hmm," she placed her palms over his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly against his chest. She rested her chin her hands. "You really want to marry me?"

"I said yes, didn't I?" he nudged her nose with his.

"And you meant it?"

"Of course," he squeezed her sides, making her jump.

"And you're not going to change your mind—"

"Carla, I know what I feel for you."

She smiled up at him. Her heart leaped out of her chest. She remembered the first time he said that to her. She wasn't going to hurt him. Carla wasn't going to let herself do that to the man she loved.

She wrapped her arms around Nick's waist. Breathing in his aftershave, she rested her head in his neck. He kissed her forehead, holding her in lover's embrace.

"I think we should have a secret celebration, what do you think?" Nick whispered into her hair.

"Hm," Carla mused again, losing his body warmth as he walked over to her kitchen.

"Do you want a drink?" he said, already looking through her wine rack.

"Do you have to ask?"

* * *

Their celebration turned into watching some strange American reality show. They never failed to amaze Nick, he never understood how the people willing to put their life on TV for money were actual people. He was dumbfounded by it.

Nick chuckled at a couple talking about how sex sent them to the ER. _That was taking it a step too far. Imagine their parents and kids were watching?_ Nick thought. _Would they really want to hear about their bedroom activities? No._

Tucked into his side, his arm resting over her waist and her head lay on his chest, Carla smiled. She wasn't paying much attention to the TV. She was more interested in her hands. More importantly, her left one. More specifically, her ring finger. She couldn't stop rubbing the bare skin where a ring should lay. She kept imagining she was twisting a engagement ring, admiring its beauty.

But there was nothing there.

She had proposed to him but had nothing to show for it. She sighed before removing herself from Nick's body and reaching over to the coffee table and taking a sip of her wine.

"You okay, sweet?" Nick asked, concerned. He sat up with her, rubbing the small of her back. He could sense something was wrong. He reached over for the remote, in case she was bored of what they were watching. "Are you tired, do you want to go to bed?"

Carla shook her head, swallowing the liquid in her mouth before resting her head on his shoulder. "No, I'm fine."

He continued to rub her back and kissed her forehead. "Are you sure?"

Carla nodded. Then he caught on. She was still caressing her ring finger.

"You want a ring?"

"You got it in one. Congratulations, Nicholas," she said bitterly. She winced, it didn't sound that harsh in her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that—"

"You proposed to me, remember?" he joked, nudging her hip.

Carla sat up, crossing her legs in front of her. She tightened her hair bun as she breathed out.

"I know I did. It's just… I had rings with previous engagements—oh my God, I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry, just—" she put her head in her hands. She didn't know if it was the drink making her act this way or fear. Probably a bit of both. Why did she bring up Paul, Tony, Peter and Frank? How much stupid could she get? She hated herself for it. Nick wasn't them, he was better than all of them put together.

"Carla, Carla," he tried to lift her head, trying not to laugh at her as well. "It's okay. I don't have a ring either."

"Don't remind me!" she groaned. Still with her head in her hands, she turned to look at him. "I would have, and I know that's not traditional but when I have i ever been a normal person? It was just a spur of the moment thing, it hadn't crossed my mind before today. It was working for you—she says sarcastically," Carla stopped her rambling for a second to take a breath and giggle before continuing. "I keep looking for you, to see if you were happy with me and every time, you were looking at me with so much love in your eyes and I keep thinking I love you so much and you love me back and I couldn't remember the last time someone looked at me like that and even though at the end of the day, you sacked me, you still had that look and held me and it just clicked like it was the right thing to do."

He stopped her from saying anything more by taking her face between his palms and kissing her passionately. Carla responded, stroking his cheek as he pulled her body closer to his, their lips moving roughly, yet so lovingly, like it was the last kiss they would ever share.

"I've looked at you like that since we got together," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Heck, even before that, you were just never there to see it."

Carla licked her lips, desperate to hold on the feel of his for a while longer. She had never noticed. She couldn't have if she was walking away. If it was possible, she had just fallen a little bit more in love with him. Now she knew for certain, she needed to marry him.

"Go get your laptop," he whispered. "Let's look for the perfect rings."

* * *

"What about food for the reception? If we do it in the Rovers, I'm sure Michelle with be happy to organise it for us," Carla wondered.

They had sorted out their rings, they were going to wait a couple of days then go and buy them before announcing their exciting news to their families. Next it was sorting out who was invited and separated them into 'yes', 'no', 'maybe', 'only if'… on a word documents. Then it was looking at wedding decorations before they made it to catering. They were leaving the dress and suit as surprises and didn't want to think about venues until they told everyone.

"What about the Bistro? You know that perfectly good restaurant I own?" Nick scoffed.

"It's tradition here to have it at the Rovers! Although you have got a point," Carla tapped her chin. She scrolled down her Google Image pages, looking for ideas. "Do you think Michelle will be okay with it being in competition?

"Of course she will, you're her best friend." he kissed her cheek.

"I have ideas," she pointed at the screen. "But I'm not sure, people have food needs, don't they?"

"Oh, that reminds me!" Nick slammed his knee.

"What?"

"Remind me to steal some Chocolate Berry Tart from work."

Carla narrowed her eyes, her voice dropping. "Why?"

"For after everyone has left the reception," he smiled. "We'll have to celebrate your new name."

She shook her head, rolling her eyes. _How did he remember that?_ Although, the dessert did ring a bell. He had brought her a slice after work. She had just changed all her legal documents from Barlow back to Connor.

" _It's going to take some man to make me part with Connor again,_ " she remembered saying.

And here she was, eight months later, planning to become a Tilsley.

"Don't forget the Shiraz!" Carla picked her wine up, pointing to it before downing it in one.

"Never," he reached for the laptop, making sure to remove it from her lap without knocking the bottom of her glass. "Let me look at something."

"No, Nick! I'm still looking at food!" She tried to steal it back.

He lifted it to the side, out of Carla's reach. "Just one thing."

"Don't lost my page!" she screamed, still fighting him for it and trying her best not to spill her drink on her new sofa.

"Carla, just let me look at something," he laughed. "What are you, nine?"

"She slapped his arm, causing it to jolt. He lowered the laptop but knocked elbows with Carla. Her drink flew, suddenly, to the floor, the contents of the glass now a puddle.

"Nicholas, I only cleaned this rug the other day!" she winced, looking at the damage.

He gasped, putting the laptop down on the coffee table before kneeling on the floor to help. "Go and get a damp cloth."

Carla stumbled up from the floor and into the kitchen. Then she remembered what Kate had told Nick.

"Do we have any bicarb?" Carla asked, looking through her cupboards.

"You don't even know what that is, so the answer's no," Nick singled for her to come back over. "Just bring the cloth."

She walked back to him, holding out a damp cloth.

Thanks," he said as he took it from her.

"Blot, don't rub!"

Nick didn't even look at her, she had no idea what she was talking about. "That's for the bicarb, not water!" he joked.

After a few hard scrubs and failed attempts at trying to remove the strain even a little bit, Nick gave up. It looked no different.

"Babe, you have two stains on it now," Nick concluded.

"Thanks, Nick, just what I wanted," Carla rolled her eyes. She slapped her tights then stood up. Bending down on her knees for a long period of time was beginning to hurt. "If you hadn't tried to take the laptop from me, this wouldn't have happen."

Nick poked his tongue out at her. "You're such a spoilsport sometimes."

"That rug is brand new and expensive!" she slapped his arm before he joined her on the couch.

"It's just a rug. You can buy a new one," he rested his arm over the back of the sofa, leaning forward towards her. "I'll pay for it if you want."

"I've taken enough of your money, thank you," she said. She was still paying him back for the thousands she'd gambled away, ruthlessly.

"We'll be married one day, what's mine is yours."

Carla thought about that for a moment. She smiled widely. "We're getting married."

"Until death do us part."

"We're getting married."

Nick picked up their wine glasses from the coffee table one last time and refilled them, emptying the bottle. He handed one to Carla.

"We're. Getting. Married," he said slowly so it stuck like glue.

Carla bit her lip. She was overcome with love for the man in front of her. If someone had told her in April, when she came back from L.A, that Nick Tilsley bumping into her and ruining her organised paperwork be the start of a very bumpy yet wonderful rollercoaster, she would have told them to get their head testing.

But here she was, making cheers to the future with Nick and being unable to resist his handsome face. She made sure they both put their drink out of sight before celebrating their engagement in a way that all the words of the dictionary couldn't explain how good she felt.


End file.
